You Could Never Win
by HappinessIsAWarmScalpel
Summary: Even when the past may have been horrible, things will always seem beautiful upon retrospect. Mostly about Dahlia and Kristoph, but no pairs. Short, but sweet.
1. Kristoph

With soft, quiet steps he drew upon the old house, hands cuffed behind his back. He was never very fond of his old home, he realized, but there was always something there that made him visit. He had, after all, chosen to visit as a 'last request' per say, before his execution date. It loomed nearer and nearer every day…. Though he was not afraid. It only meant freedom from the trials of his life.

When he lived there he was happy enough, he supposed, but when he left the house he found his life had improved substantially.

The house itself was due for demolition, after the estate sale for his parent's belongings had produced next to no profit. He couldn't help but to wonder if it was fate, in that the date of demolition fell exactly upon his execution date. If he went, so did the house, he mused in silence. So he came to see it one last time, before everything was hauled out and thrown away and before he and it were both wiped cleanly away.

"_Brother, come here, come here!" A soft, boyish voice called out, a blond head bobbing happily from behind the couch. _

"_I'm busy, Klavier, later!" Huffed an older boy, busy with his studies as always. Though, that did not last long, as he was dragged away within seconds._

"_We're gonna play pirates!"_

He chuckled softly as he eyed the old writing desk he spent so much time at, then turned, looking to an old gramophone his mother had quite the affinity for. He could almost hear the soft music playing right then and there, a soft, lilting aria with a German singer and a soft piano in the background.

Piano.

_"Krissy, Krissy! Come sit, come sit!" He grabbed his hand with his own tiny, perfectly cleaned ones, plopping down comfortably onto the bench of the piano. "We should play together!"_

_The boy's mother rushed into the room, face contorted in anger at the idea. "No! Klavier, Kristoph, I have told you! Kristoph is most certainly not allowed on that piano, you know just how much we paid for it!" The older boy was pushed off the bench, eyes huge and threatening to brim over with tears._

_"….Yes, mutti." He said, very solemnly, pushing himself up and walking to the desk. _

_"Just go play your violin, hm?"_

Klavier. That piano in the front room had been reserved for his brother, never ever for him, despite his superior skills at the time. He hadn't played since, he had thrown his violin onto the ground in a fit and didn't even touch that for years.

No, he could never win against him. And he never did, in all truth.

Sweet Klavier.

Oh, how he loved and hated that boy. He was the very bane of Kristoph's existence, and yet seeing him smile brightened his day so. As they grew up together, Kristoph could never resist hugging the sweet boy. He could be a brat at times, though what child wasn't naughty at least at one point in their life?

But once Klavier hit twenty, things between them bottomed out. Conversations became strained and worthless, compared to their usual kind exchanges.

The man leading Kristoph along grabbed his arms. "They want us out, now." He said, urging the blond along. Kristoph made a sigh and gave a weak little smile, insincere as ever.

Oh, how the past could take hold of someone.


	2. Dahlia

When you're alone essentially your whole life, it should be easier to disassociate yourself from other people. It isn't though, and Dahlia knew this firsthand. That idiot of a boy followed her like a puppy when she happened to be around instead of Iris, and the way he looked at her… It made her sick. Oh, it made her sick to her stomach and she was so tired of it.

She giggled lightly, thinking about it, her cellmate taking a puff of a cigarette in the background. "What the hell are you so happy about?" She asked, in her gruff voice.

"Oh, nothing~" She chimed softly, flashing her usual smile.

Well, there was plenty to be thinking about, at least; the look on Iris's face when she heard Dahlia planned to kill Wright, perhaps? Or maybe it was something more along the lines of her impending hanging?

All the same, Dahlia wore that insincerely sweet smile on her perfectly rounded lips, one the guards knew not to trust but did anyways. She was quite popular there, after all, and she knew it. Oh, she got special treatment, or at least as special of treatment as a lady on death row would get. She was even given writing utensils, real ones, not just dulled coloring pencils and markers, sharpened and lovely pencils, with which she made lovely little drawings of flowers, especially her namesake. Oh, she did enjoy dahlias, with their beautifully blooming petals and split levels of colors. They made her smile, sometimes it was even a real smile instead of her usual fake ones.

Finishing up a little picture of just that, a little dahlia with pink petals and a bright green stem, she set down the drawing supplies and made a content little sigh, eyes darting over to the clock outside the cell. She pursed her lips, thinking over something unmentioned.

There was an awful lot of free time these days. She hadn't had this much free time in normal life, really, always busy doing something to cover up some sort of incident…

She stretched out, catlike, and trotted her way to the bed, mind whirring as always.


	3. End

A cold, sweeping feeling overcomes both the man and the woman as they make their slow march up to the scaffolds.

At this moment, it is clear that there will always be a small, little link between the two of them. They may not know it, and neither of them would ever learn, not even were they alive now.

The two of them both went down laughing. They both laughed and laughed and laughed, bodies still reeling with the creeping laughter as the noose was placed over their heads and tightened 'round their necks.

If there was ever a sense of victory coming from these two killers, one could say it was at this moment here. With nothing left to lose but the last thing they could lose, they laughed right into God's face and fell to their deaths with smiles on their faces.

In the darkest of situations, even the most inhuman of people have moments of desperation, you'll find, if you'd simply look. No one is an exception to the rule, even if they think they are.

They could never win though, because it was their fate from the start.


End file.
